We all know Chelsea fans are the worst human beings on the planet, but I wanted to know why. I wanted to get inside their inner workings and find out what makes them tick, what it is to truly be one of the worst people. I actually just wanted to spam a couple Facebook groups with a GITG video of Mourinho blanking a fan, it's hilarious, have you seen it? This is my week as a Chelsea fan.
In February of this year a handful of bad prats prevented a blackened Frenchman from boarding a train. Fifteen years had passed since Donal Macintyre infiltrated the infamous Chelsea Headhunters and executed them one by one, and Chelsea FC was enjoying a new revamped multicultural branding, one without boarders or history. But this shameful episode echoed so many before it. As did the game that night echo every Chelsea match in that it was shit and a draw.
Were these train cunts a minor blip in brand Chelsea's road to global plasticity? Or something more sinister? Were they a reminder, like that of a cancer in the bones of an old lush, a reminder that in spite of their "work done", their core was as decrepit and poisoned as ever? Why not.
And what better way to truly get to know someone or a group of people on an intimate and meaningful basis than Facebook. After several minutes searching I came across my floor and then once I finished watching dog pornography I stumbled upon a Chelsea Supporters group on Facebook. Jackpot I thought, and after I finished gambling online I clicked back on to Facebook. Lolz.
This is it, no turning back. Heart in my mouth, my mouse hovered, my cat hoovered, and then, I did it. 'Join.' I had entered the lion's den.
Several nerve racking hours went by following my request. And then those 8 little letters flashed up on my screen ’Accepted.’ But joining a group is the easy part, now I would need to ingratiate myself, earn these people’s trust, their respect. I rehearsed lines in my head like, “Dennis Wise is good,” and, “Hurrah, we [Chelsea] scored!” If I was to be truly accepted I had to get this right. In true Macintyre fashion I donned a Chelsea transfer on my right arm with warm water and a flannel and set my keyboard to 'Scottish.’
However, nothing could prepare me for what was on the other side..
Before I could say, “filha da puta,” I froze. Had I come to the right place? Instead of being greeted by such notorious characters as Terrence Matthews and Jason Marriner, names like ‘Moses Otunga’, ‘Daude Jumbe’ and ‘Chrispus Aubry Agona’ met my gaze. ‘Issa Busigo’, ‘Ndaluza Benedict Themu II’, African names with matching faces as far as I could scroll. I suddenly felt vulnerable, exposed. If Chelsea fans were racist I was in trouble.
I composed myself, feeling slightly embarrassed by my tattoo. But hang on a minute, the admin would have seen that I didn’t look like a typical Chelsea fan, my pasty white complexion being a dead give away. Why would he accept my request? Unless it was a trap. Or, unless Chelsea fans weren’t hateful racists after all? I decided to sit back and observe.
The proceeding sequence of posts were probably the maddest things I have ever read.
And then this happened:
Sharing such intimate events in one's personal life over Facebook would be unthinkable for the average non-Chelsea fan. Particularly one as painful as this. But then you only had to read the comments to understand why. All 470 of them.
Everything I thought I knew bout Chelsea fans went out the window. Here was a true community, one built on shared interest, love and support for both for a football team and each other. And it didn't stop there:
I felt humbled to have been accepted without hesitation, without prejudice, into a group who were as mad as they were unconditionally nice. How could such an inclusive fanbase be so criminally misrepresented, I wondered. Chelsea fans aren’t racist, how could they be? If Chelsea fans accepted me, a belligerent white middle-class prat, then they’d accept anyone. And if anyone tells you otherwise they’re a liars. Perhaps if we all behaved like Chelsea fans the world would be a better place? Food for thought.
It was apparent that I had stumbled into something truly lovely. Unfortunately the thought of being associated with anything to do with Chelsea FC made me feel physically sick. So I left.
GITG
Looks like you put a lot of effort into this and it's still shit. Oh well, you might have a future at Vice at least
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